


Crossroads Blues (SEASON TWO, EPISODE EIGHT)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [31]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demons, Episode: s02e08 Crossroad Blues, Hellhounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:57:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean calls a thugged-out demon ta cook up a thugged-out deal ta save a playa named Evan Hudson, up in exchange fo' his dirty ass. While makin tha deal, tha demon confronts Dean’s most shitty nightmare bout they dad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

Greenwood, Mississippi  
August 1938

INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SALOON - NIGHT (1938)

Robert Johnston is seated on a lil' small-ass stage, playin yo. His head is down, n' a cold-ass lil blunt danglez from his crazy-ass grill. Da room is sparsely populated wit playas listenin intently. One WOMAN near tha front stares at him, smilin as if tha show is just fo' her, n' occasionally he looks up n' catches her eye.

Dude hears tha growlin of a thugged-out dog, outside yo. Dude pauses, then resumes fo' realz. Again, da perved-out muthafucka stops, hearin eerie barkin dat no muthafucka else seems ta notice, n' seein a thugged-out dark shape flittin past tha window. Da blunt falls from his crazy-ass grill; he is terrified. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude stands, clutchin his wild lil' freakadelic guitar, n' bolts from tha room up in terror. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da WOMAN n' nuff muthafuckin others follow.  


  
EXT. CLEARING - NIGHT

ROBERT stops, listenin fo' tha dawg yo. Dude hears it, drops tha guitar, n' runs to:

INT yo. HOUSE - NIGHT

ROBERT runs tha fuck into a wooden doggy den n' bolts tha door behind his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude hears tha scrabblin n' barkin of tha dawg n' draws a cold-ass lil chair across tha floor, wedgin it under tha door yo. Dude backs up slowly, then sinks ta his knees, weeping. Da door rattlez violently until it flies open; two pimps n' tha WOMAN from earlier enta ta find ROBERT on tha floor, convulsing. 

**OLD MAN  
** What tha fuck iz goin on?

**WOMAN**  
Oh mah Dogg dawwwg!  
  
(Bitch goes ta ROBERT, runs her handz over his muthafuckin ass.)  
Git a thugged-out doctor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Run!

Da OLD MAN runs. Da WOMAN leans over ROBERT, pattin his wild lil' face.

**WOMAN  
** What happened, biatch? Talk ta me biaatch!

**ROBERT  
** Dogs...

**WOMAN  
** Stay wit us, baby hommie!

**ROBERT  
** Dogs... Black dawgs...

**WOMAN  
** Robert, biatch? Robert, don't you take a thugged-out dirtnap on me biaatch!

 


	2. ACT ONE

INT. DINER - DAY (PRESENT)

SAM n' DEAN is chillin at a table, SAM wit his fuckin laptop open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Onscreen be a mugshot of DEAN from tha St. Louis Popo Department. 

 **SAM  
** So much fo' our low profile. You've gots a warrant up in St. Louis, n' now you officially up in tha Fedz database.

 **DEAN**  
(grinning)  
Dude, I be like Dillinger or something.

 **SAM  
** Dean, it aint funky. Makes tha thang harder, we've gotta be mo' careful now, nahmeean, biatch? 

 **DEAN  
** Well, what tha fuck do they gots on yo slick ass?

 **SAM**  
(mutters)  
I be shizzle they just aint posted it yet. 

 **DEAN  
** No accessory, biatch? Nothing?

 **SAM  
** Shut up.

 **DEAN**  
(laughing)  
Yo ass is jealous.

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, I aint playa!

 **DEAN  
** Uh-huh. All right. What do you gots on tha case there, you innocent, harmless lil' dude, yo slick ass?

SAM shuts his computer, annoyed, n' pulls up nuff muthafuckin pagez of research.

 **SAM  
** Architect Shizzle Boyden plummeted ta his fuckin lil' dirtnap from tha roof of his home, a cold-ass lil condominium da ruffneck designed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** Hmm. Build a high-rise n' jump off tha top of dat shit. Thatz classy. When did his schmoooove ass call animal control?

 **SAM  
** Two minutes earlier.

 **DEAN  
** Did he straight-up say Black Dog?

 **SAM  
** Yeah fo' realz. A vicious, wild, black dog. Da authoritizzles couldn't find it, no one else saw it; up in fact, tha authoritizzles is a lil trippin as ta how tha fuck a wild dawg could git past tha doorman, take tha elevator up n' start roamin tha hallz of tha cushiest joint up in town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. Afta that, no mo' calls, da ruffneck don't show up fo' work, two minutes lata tha pimpin' muthafucka takes a swan dive. 

 **DEAN  
** Do you be thinkin our phat asses dealin wit a actual Black Dawg?

 **SAM  
** Well, maybe. 

 **DEAN  
** Whatz tha lore on it?

 **SAM**  
(passin DEAN tha pages)  
itz all pretty vague. I mean, there be spectral black dawgs all over tha ghetto yo, but... some say they animal spirits, others say dirtnap omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they big, nasty, 

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, I bet they could hump tha crap outta yo' leg, peep dat one, huh?  
(he holdz up a picture n' smirks; Sam glares; tha smirk slips)  
What, biatch? They could.

INT fo' realz. APARTMENT - DAY

In a posh, well-lit room, SAM n' DEAN is bustin suits n' rap battlein a man.

 **SAM  
** So, you n' Shizzle Boyden was bidnizz partners fo' almost ten years, right?

 **MAN  
** Thatz right. Now one mo' time, dis is for...?

 **DEAN**  
A tribute ta Mista Muthafuckin Boyden. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. Architectural Digest.   
(Da MAN laughs.)  
This funky ta yo slick ass?

 **MAN  
** Fuck dat shit, dat shit... itz just, a tribute. Yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, Shizzle always gots tha tributes yo. Dude kills his dirty ass, leaves me n' his crew behind... well, he gets another tribute. 

 **SAM  
** Right. Any scam why he'd do such a thang?

 **MAN  
** I, I have no clue, I mean he lived a cold-ass lil charmed game. 

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck so?

 **MAN  
** Dude was a gangbangin' flat-out smart-ass . I mean, I be capable yo, but next ta him, I... n' it wasn't always dat way, either n' shit. 

 **DEAN  
** No?

 **MAN  
** Yo ass wanna know tha real deal, biatch? There was a time where his schmoooove ass couldn't even design a pup tent yo. Hell, ten muthafuckin years ago da thug hustlin as a funky-ass bartender at dis place called Lloydz fo' realz. A complete dive.

 **SAM  
** Right. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So what tha fuck chizzled?

 **MAN**  
Yo ass gots mah dirty ass. But overnight, he gets dis big-ass commission, n' da perved-out muthafucka starts designing... da perved-out muthafucka starts designin da most thugged-out ingenious buildings mah playas has eva seen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dat shiznit was like, tha level of Van Gogh, n' Mozart...  
(he cuts off abruptly)

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **MAN**  
It aint nuthin but funky. True smart-ass es, they seem ta take a thugged-out dirtnap young, don't they, biatch? To have dat kind of talent, biatch? Why... why just throw it away?

  
EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - DAY

DEAN exits a funky-ass buildin designated ANIMAL PROTECTION AGENCY, still bustin tha suit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM is waitin up in tha car. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. DEAN gets up in tha driverz side. 

 **SAM  
** So.

 **DEAN  
** Secretaryz name is Carly. Dat hoe twenty three, she, uh, kayaks, n' they real. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass didn't happen ta ask her if her big-ass booty peeped any black dawgs lately, did yo slick ass?

 **DEAN**  
(holdin up a page)  
Every complaint called up in dis week bout anythang big, black, or dog-like. Therez nineteen calls up in all fo' realz. And, uh,  
(pullin off a Post-it note)  
I don't give a fuck what tha fuck dis thang is.

SAM takes it, readz it, n' laughs yo. Dude glances at DEAN

 **SAM  
** Yo ass mean Carlyz MySpace address?

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, MySpace, what tha fuck tha hell is that?  
(SAM laughs again)  
Seriously, is dat like some sort of porn site?

  
EXT. DR. PEARLMAN'S HOUSE - DAY

DEAN n' SAM approach (yet another) white suburban door n' knock. 

 **DEAN  
** I swear, if dis be another freakin' Pomeranian barkin up in tha neighborz yard... 

Da door opens ta reveal a lil' biatch.

 **DEAN**  
Afternoon, ma'am.   
(pullin up a ID)  
Uh, Animal Control. 

 **WOMAN  
** Oh, one of mah thugs already came yesterday. It make me wanna hollar playa! 

 **SAM**  
Oh, our laid-back asses just followin up. We lookin fo' Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sylvia Pearlman?

  
INT. DR. PEARLMAN'S HOUSE - DAY

 **WOMAN  
** Da Doctor, well, she, I don't give a fuck exactly when she'll be back, she left two minutes ago. 

 **SAM  
** Okay fo' realz. And yo ass is...?

 **WOMAN  
** I be Ms. Pearlmanz maid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** So where did tha Doctor go?

 **WOMAN  
** I aint sure. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch just packed n' went, her dope ass didn't say where, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. That stray dog, did you find it finally?

 **SAM  
** Oh, not yet. Yo ass know, you didn't eva happen ta peep tha dawg yo ass, did yo slick ass?

 **WOMAN  
** Well, no. I never even heard dat shit.

In tha background, DEAN takes a photograph off tha wall: it shows DR. PEARLMAN at a funky-ass bar wit two playas. 

 **WOMAN (cont.)  
** I was almost startin ta be thinkin tha Doctor was imaginin thangs yo, but she not like that, so...

 **DEAN  
** Yo, you know I read dat biiiiatch was, uh chizzle surgeon all up in tha hospitizzle. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Dat hoe gotta be what, forty two, forty three, biatch? Thatz pretty lil' fo' dat thang. 

 **WOMAN  
** Youngest up in tha history of tha place. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch gots tha position... ten muthafuckin years ago?

 **DEAN  
** Huh.

 **SAM  
** Huh fo' realz. An overnight success. Ten muthafuckin years ago.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, we know a muthafucka like dis shit. Oh, peep all dis bullshit.  
(he holdz up tha photo, flips it over ta show freestylin on tha back)  
Lloydz Bar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

  
INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

In a rumpled hotel room wit red curtains n' sheets, a gangbangin' forty-suttin' biatch (DR. PEARLMAN) huddlez on tha bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Her afro is frazzled n' her ass is terrified, flinchin all up in tha slightest noise n' huggin her arms round her muthafuckin ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch stands, pacing. 

  1. **PEARLMAN  
** Oh god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 



She hears a funky-ass bangin poundin all up in tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch whirls ta grill it, frozen.

 **MAN**  
(outside tha door)  
Ms. Pearlman, biatch? I've been callin fo' hours. Yo ass need ta vacate tha room or you gotta pay fo' another night playa!

She opens tha door n' pokes her head out. 

  1. **PEARLMAN  
** Okay. No problem.



She goes ta tha bed n' opens her wallet, pullin up some chedda fo' realz. As dat dunkadelic hoe turns back ta tha door, her big-ass booty sees tha manz grill stretch hideously, grill openin wide n' eyes rollin back up in his head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch gasps, tosses tha scrilla down at his wild lil' feet, shuts tha door n' chains dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch leans against it, panting. 

  
EXT. CROSSROADS - DAY

DEAN n' SAM pull up outside LLOYD'S BAR n' git up fo' realz. As they strutt towardz tha bar, DEAN notices some yellow flowers growin by tha side of tha road. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude stops.

 **DEAN  
** Hey. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah?

 **DEAN  
** Thatz weird. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

Pan up ta reveal tha crossroads; on mo' than one corner, tha yellow flowers is growing.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Think one of mah thugs planted these?

 **SAM  
** Middle of all these weeds?

 **DEAN  
** These are, uh, what tha fuck do you call 'em. 

 **SAM  
** Yarrow flowers?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Used fo' certain rituals, aren't they?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, actually. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Summonin rituals. 

 **DEAN  
** Heh. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, two playas become sudden successes bout ten muthafuckin years ago. Right round tha time they was ridin here at Lloyd's.

 **SAM  
** Where there just happens ta be a cold-ass lil crossroads. Yo ass think?

 **DEAN  
** Letz smoke up. 

Dude strutts ta tha centa of tha crossroadz n' looks around, measuring.

 **DEAN  
** This seem bout tha dead centa ta yo slick ass?

DEAN digs all dem inches tha fuck into tha hard soil n' hits suttin' solid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude stops.

 **DEAN  
** Yahtzee. 

Dude drops tha shovel n' digs wit his hands, pullin up a oldschool rusted box yo. Dude opens dat shit. Well shiiiit, it gotz nuff, among other thangs, nuff muthafuckin lil' small-ass bones n' a lil' small-ass stoppered jar dat SAM takes out.

 **SAM  
** I'd be willin ta bet thatz graveyard dirt fo' realz. And a funky-ass black pussaaaaay bone. 

 **DEAN  
** Thatz straight-up spellwork. I mean, thatz Deep Downtown Hoodoo stuff. 

 **SAM  
** Used ta summon a thugged-out demon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Not just summon one. Crossroadz is where pacts is made. These playas is straight-up makin deals wit tha damn thang. Yo ass know, 'cause dat always endz good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! 

 **SAM  
** They're seein dawgs, all right. But not Black Dogs, they seein Hellhounds. Demonic pit bulls.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, whoever dis demon is, itz back n' itz collectin fo' realz. And dat doctor lady, biatch? Wherever she hustlin, biatch? Biatch ain't hustlin fast enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. 

  
INT. MOTEL - NIGHT

Inside DR. PEARLMAN'S hotel room, tha door is rattlin violently. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch crouches by tha window, screaming. Da rattlin stops n' she gets up warily. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly suttin' invisible bursts all up in tha window, knockin her ta tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch scrabblez backwardz along tha floor, away from tha scratchin n' growling; suttin' (still invisible) wit sharp claws grabs her leg n' shredz it, leavin bloody trails. Dat hoe pulled across tha floor, graspin all up in tha bed sheets n' screaming. 

 


	3. ACT TWO

LOCATION TITLE:  
ROSEDALE, MISSISSIPPI  
1930  


EXT. CROSSROADS - NIGHT

Robert Johnsonz "Crossroad Blues" skits up in tha soundtrack as tha playa his dirty ass kneels up in tha dust all up in tha dead centa of tha crossroadz yo. Dude buries a rough sack tied wit a strin yo. Dude wears a funky-ass basebizzle cap n' a funky-ass brown blazer n' has a boombox slung round his back yo. Dude stands. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly behind his ass be a funky-ass dope lil' biatch up in a white dress; tha pimpin' muthafucka turns n' sees her n' shit. 

 **ROBERT  
** Holy...

 **DEMON**  
Holy?  
(her eyes burn red)  
Guess again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

She strutts slowly towardz his ass on bare Nikes. 

 **ROBERT  
** I wanna play guitar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. I want you ta make me tha dopest blues playa eva lived. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

She places a hand gently on his cheek.

 **DEMON  
** If thatz what tha fuck you want. 

Dude nods. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch smiles.

 **ROBERT  
** So... how tha fuck do we... do we shake on it?

She shakes her head, still smiling, n' pulls his ass up in fo' a thugged-out deep kiss. When she pulls back, his wild lil' fuckin eyes is closed fo' a moment yo. Dude opens dem slowly, n' he is ridin' solo yo. Dude pulls his boombox tha fuck into his handz n' caresses dat shit.  


  
EXT. CROSSROADS - DAY (PRESENT)

 **SAM  
** So itz just like tha Robert Johnston legend, right, biatch? I mean, pushin yo' ass all up in tha crossroads, kind of deal?

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, except dat wasn't a legend yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. I mean, you know his crazy-ass beatz. Drop dis like itz hot!   
(SAM shrugs)  
Yo ass don't give a fuck Robert Johnsonz joints, biatch? Sam, there's, there be a occult references all over his fuckin lyrics, I mean, Crossroad Blues, biatch? Me n' tha Devil Blues, biatch? Hellhound on My fuckin Trail?  
(SAM frowns, n' DEAN rolls his wild lil' fuckin eyes. )  
Da rap goes, da ruffneck took a dirt nap chokin on his own blood, da thug was hallucinating, n' mutterin bout big-ass evil dawgs. 

 **SAM  
** And now itz goin' down all over again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. 

 **SAM  
** We've gotta git into if any suckas struck any bargains round here.

 **DEAN  
** Great. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So we've gotta clean up these peoples' mess fo' 'em, biatch? I mean, they not exactly squeaky clean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. No Muthafucka put a glock ta they head n' forced 'em ta play Letz Make A Deal.

 **SAM  
** So what, we should just leave dem ta die?

 **DEAN  
** Some Muthafucka goes over Niagara up in a funky-ass barrel, you gonna jump up in n' try ta save 'em?

 **SAM  
** Dean.

 **DEAN**  
All right. Fine.  
(beat)  
Rituals like this, you've gots ta put yo' own photo tha fuck into tha mix, right, biatch? So dis muthafucka probably summoned dis thang, letz go n' peep if mah playas inside knows his muthafuckin ass. If da perved-out muthafucka still kickin it.  


  
INT. DARROW HOME - DAY

SAM n' DEAN is struttin up a set of wide, wooden stairs ta tha fourth floor of a crib building. 

 **SAM  
** Whatz dis muthafuckaz name again?

 **DEAN  
** George Darrow fo' realz. Apparently like tha regular at Lloyd's. Though dis doggy den probably ain't up next on MTV Cribs, is it?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So whatever kind of deal he made,

 **DEAN**  
Wasn't fo' chedda. Oh, whoz ass knows. Maybe dis place is full of babes up in Supa-Hoe Leia bikinis.   
(SAM sighs)  
Fuck dat shit, I be just saying, dis muthafuckaz gots one epic bill come due yo. Hope at least he axed fo' suttin' fun. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

They reach tha landin n' stop up in front of crib 4C. Da floor is dusted wit a gangbangin' fine black powder.

 **SAM  
** Look at dis shit. 

They crouch down, fingerin dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** What tha fuck iz that, pepper?

Da door opens ta reveal GEORGE - a middle-aged playa wit grayin hair, bustin a grimy t-shirt n' open button-down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **GEORGE  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck tha hell is yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** George Darrow?

 **GEORGE  
** I aint buyin anything.

 **DEAN  
** Whoa, whoa, whoa, be lookin like you went fo' tha wack shaker there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho yo. Heh. Usually when you wanna keep suttin' evil up you go fo' tha salt. 

 **GEORGE  
** I don't give a fuck what tha fuck you talkin' about. 

 **DEAN**  
Talkin' bout all dis bullshit.  
(he holdz up tha lil' small-ass picture)  
Tell mah dirty ass. Yo ass peeped dat Hellhound yet?

 **SAM**  
Look. Us thugs wanna help. Please. Just five minutes.   


  
INT. GEORGE'S APT - DAY

GEORGE shows dem up in n' pours his dirty ass a glass of whisky. Da basement crib is filled wit paintings, completed n' half-finished, n' a table holdz paintin supplies.

 **SAM  
** So what tha fuck is dat shiznit up front?

 **GEORGE**  
Goofer Dust.  
(They peep his ass blankly)  
What, you thugs be thinkin you know somethin' bout somethin' but not Goofer dust?

Dude tosses DEAN a funky-ass brown sack, tied close wit twine yo. Dude catches dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Well, we know a lil on some lot of thangs. Just enough ta make our asses dangerous. 

 **SAM  
** What tha fuck iz it?

 **GEORGE  
** Hoodoo. My fuckin grandma taught mah dirty ass. Keeps up demons. 

 **DEAN  
** Demons we know.

 **GEORGE**  
Well, then. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Maybe it'll do you some good.  
(Dude strutts over ta a cold-ass lil chair)  
Four minutes left.

DEAN glances at SAM, whoz ass takes tha lead.

 **SAM  
** Mista Muthafuckin Darrow. We know you up in shit. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, dat you gots yo ass into. 

 **SAM**  
(half-pimped up at DEAN)  
But it aint hopeless, all right, biatch? Therez gotta be suttin' we can do. 

 **GEORGE  
** Listen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I git dat you thugs wanna help. But sometimes a thug make they bed, they've just gots ta lie down up in dat shit. I be tha one called dat demon up in tha straight-up original gangsta place. 

 **DEAN  
** What'd you do it for?

 **GEORGE  
** I was weak. I mean, whoz ass don't wanna be pimped out, biatch? Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck don't want they game ta mean something, biatch? I just... I just never thought bout tha price. 

 **DEAN  
** Was it worth it?

 **GEORGE  
** Hell no. 'Course, I axed fo' talent. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shoulda gone fo' fame. I be still broke, n' lonely. Just now I gots dis pile of paintings don't no muthafucka want. But dat wasn't tha worst. 

 **SAM  
** Go on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **GEORGE  
** Demon didn't muthafuckin bounce. I never counted on dis shiznit fo' realz. Afta our deal was done tha damn thang stayed at Lloydz fo' a week. Just chattin'. Makin' mo' deals. I tried ta warn folks yo, but, I mean whoz goin' ta dig a oldschool faded?

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck nuff others is there?

 **GEORGE  
** Uh, tha architect, dat doctor lady- I kept up wit them, they've been up in tha papers. Least they gots famous. 

 **DEAN  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck else, George, biatch? Come on, think. 

 **GEORGE  
** One mo' n' mo' n' mo'. Uh, sick muthafucka like a muthafucka yo. Hudson. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Evan, I think. I don't give a fuck what tha fuck he axed for. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Don't matta now, nahmeean, biatch? Us dudes done for. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **SAM  
** No. Fuck dat shit, there be a gotta be a way. 

 **GEORGE  
** Yo ass don't git dat shiznit son! I don't want a way hommie!

 **SAM  
** Look, you don't - 

 **GEORGE  
** I called dat thang! I brought it on mah dirty ass. I brought it on dem wild-ass muthafuckas. I be goin ta hell, one way or another n' shiznit fo' realz. All I want is ta finish mah last painting. Dizzle or two, I be done. I be just tryin ta hold dem off 'till then. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Loot a lil time. Okay, thugs. Time you went, go help some muthafucka dat wants help.

 **SAM  
** We can't just-

 **GEORGE  
** Git up son! I gots work ta do.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass don't straight-up wanna take a thugged-out dirt nap.

 **GEORGE  
** I don't, biatch? I'm... I be tired. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

They leave as GEORGE starts painting.  


  
INT yo. HUDSON HOUSE - NIGHT

EVAN HUDSON is hustlin at his computa when dat schmoooove muthafucka hears a gangbangin' familiar bangin barkin outside his window yo. Dude standz n' pulls back tha curtain, peerin out. His hoe JULIE enters.

 **JULIE  
** Evan, biatch? Yo ass spyin on tha neighbors?

 **EVAN  
** Fuck dat shit, I uh, I thought i heard suttin' up in tha yard yo, but itz nothing. Y'all locked n loaded ta go?

 **JULIE  
** Yo ass know, if I didn't give a fuck betta I'd say you want me outta tha house. 

 **EVAN  
** Of course not. It aint nuthin but just, you, you've barely peeped yo' sista since dat freaky freaky biatch had tha baby.

 **JULIE  
** Well, what tha fuck is you goin ta do all weekend?

 **EVAN**  
Um, not much, I, I gots some bills ta pay.  
(Dude turns n' looks at her sadly, crosses tha room ta take her up in his thugged-out arms.)  
Come here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I be bout ta miss you, biatch.

 **JULIE  
** You'd mo' betta n' shit. 

 **EVAN  
** Yo ass know I gots a straight-up boner fo' you, right, biatch? Forever.

 **JULIE  
** Of course- Evan, is you aiiight?

 **EVAN  
** Yeah. Yeah, I be fine. Now git going. 

Dude kisses her again.

 **JULIE**  
Okay, I be bout ta call you when I git there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.   
(she goes ta tha door, stops n' turns back)  
Yo, dopeie?

Suddenly her grill twists horribly, her skin goin gray n' cracked, eyes white. Evan recoils; she returns ta normal.

 **JULIE  
** I gots a straight-up boner fo' you like a muthafucka. 

 


	4. ACT THREE

EXT yo. HUDSON HOUSE - NIGHT

DEAN n' SAM approach EVAN'S front door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM knocks fo' realz. A moment later, EVAN opens tha door.

 **EVAN  
** Yes?

 **SAM  
** Evan Hudson?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass eva been ta a funky-ass bar called Lloyd's, biatch? Would done been bout ten muthafuckin years ago. 

Terrified, EVAN slams tha door n' latches dat shit. 

 **DEAN  
** Come on, our asses aint demons!

INSIDE, EVAN bolts tha fuck into a funky-ass back room.

 **SAM  
** Any other bright ideas?

DEAN steps back, sets his dirty ass, then kicks tha door down up in one go. They enter n' shit. Outside tha back room EVAN has just entered, DEAN prepares ta kick down dat door like a muthafucka. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM catches his fuckin leg, stoppin his muthafuckin ass. 

 **SAM  
** What-

Lookin at DEAN pointedly, SAM turns tha handle n' pushes tha door open gently. Da room is on tha fuckin' down-low. as they enter.

 **SAM  
** Evan?

 **EVAN**  
(jumpin up from behind a funky-ass bookshelf)  
Please biaaatch! Don't hurt mah dirty ass.

 **SAM**  
(holdin his hand out, pacifying)  
  
We not goin ta hurt you, all right, biatch? Our thugged-out asses here ta help you, biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** We know all bout tha smart-ass deal you made. 

 **EVAN  
** What, biatch? How?

 **SAM  
** Doesn't matter n' shiznit fo' realz. All dat mattas is, we tryin ta stop dat shit. 

 **EVAN  
** How tha fuck do I know you not lying?

 **DEAN  
** Well, you don't yo, but you kinda hustlin low on options there, dawg-boy. 

EVAN swallows n' starts pacing.

 **EVAN  
** Yo ass betta stop it?

 **SAM  
** Don't know. We bout ta try. 

 **EVAN  
** I don't wanna take a thugged-out dirt nap. 

 **DEAN  
** Of course you don't, not now, nahmeean, biatch? 

 **SAM**  
(quietly)  
Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Stop.

 **DEAN  
** What'd you ask fo' anyway, Evan, biatch? Huh, biatch? Never need Viagra, biatch? Bowl a slick game, biatch? What?

 **EVAN  
** My fuckin hoe. 

 **DEAN**  
(laughs)  
Right. Gettin' tha girl. Well, thatz worth a trip ta hell for. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **SAM  
** Dean, stop.

 **EVAN  
** No. Dat punk right, I made tha deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. No Muthafucka twisted mah arm, that... biatch, or whatever dat biiiiatch was, all up in tha bar, biatch? Biatch holla'd I could have anythang I wanted.. n' you KNOWS dat biiiiatch was nuts at first yo, but... I don't give a fuck how tha fuck to- I was desperate.

 **SAM  
** Desperate?

 **EVAN  
** Julie was dying.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass done did it ta save her, biatch? 

 **EVAN  
** Bitch had cancer, they'd stopped treatment, they was movin her tha fuck into hospice, they kept saying... a matta of days. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So yeah, I made tha deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack fo' realz. And I'd do it again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I'd have took a dirt nap fo' her on tha spot. 

 **DEAN  
** Did yo dirty ass eva be thinkin bout her up in all this?

 **EVAN  
** I did dis fo' her muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN**  
(advancin on him)  
Yo ass shizzle bout that, biatch? I be thinkin you done did it fo' yo ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So you wouldn't gotta live without her n' shit. But guess what, biatch? Dat hoe goin ta gotta live without you now, nahmeean, biatch? But what tha fuck if she knew how tha fuck much it cost, biatch? What if she knew it cost yo' soul, biatch? How tha fuck do you be thinkin she'd feel?

 **SAM**  
(puttin a hand on DEAN'S chest, pullin his ass back)  
Okay, thatz enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Yo ass just sit tight, all right, biatch? We goin ta figure dis out. 

Dude bigs up DEAN tha fuck into tha hallway. 

 **SAM  
** Y'all right?

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, why wouldn't I be, biatch? Yo, I gots a idea.  
(he pulls up tha Goofer dust)  
Yo ass throw Georgez hoodoo at dat Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I'ma git all up in tha crossroadz n' summon tha demon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM  
** Summon- is you nuts?

 **DEAN  
** Maybe a lil. But I can trap dat shit. I can exorcise it, n' I can loot our asses time ta git into suttin' mo' permanent.

 **SAM  
** Yeah yo, but how tha fuck much time?

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a fuck, a while. I mean, it aint easy as fuck fo' dem suckers ta claw they way back from hell n' tha fuck into tha sunshine.

 **SAM  
** No. No way.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass aint allowed ta say no, Sammy, not unless you've gots a funky-ass betta idea. 

 **SAM**  
Dean, you can forget it, all right, biatch? I aint lettin you summon dat demon.

 **DEAN  
** Why not?

 **SAM  
** Because I don't like where yo' head be at up in dis biatch, thatz why not.

 **DEAN  
** What is you poppin' off about?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know, you've been on edge eva since we found dat crossroads, Dean, n' I be thinkin I know why.

 **DEAN  
** Us dudes aint gots time fo' all dis bullshit.

Dude brushes past SAM yo, but is stopped by a single word.

 **SAM  
** Dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass be thinkin maybe Dad made one of these deals, huh, biatch? Hell. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I been thankin dat shit. I be shizzle you've been thankin it like a muthafucka. 

 **DEAN**  
(quietly)  
It fits, don't it, biatch? I be kickin it, Dadz dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da yellow-eyed demon was involved. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! What if da ruffneck did, biatch? What if da perved-out muthafucka struck a thugged-out deal, biatch? My fuckin game fo' his soul?

 **EVAN (inside)  
** I be thinkin I hear dat shiznit son! It aint nuthin but outside biaatch!

 **DEAN  
** Just keep his ass kickin it, aiiight?

 **SAM  
** Dean...

 **DEAN**  
Go!  


  
EXT. CROSSROADS - NIGHT

DEAN is placin a photo of his dirty ass up in GEORGE'S box of Hoodoo Magic yo. Dude buries dead centa all up in tha crossroads, scrapin tha dirt over it wit his hands. As da perved-out muthafucka stands, a funky-ass dope lil' biatch up in a funky-ass black dress appears behind his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEMON**  
So. What brangs a muthafucka like you ta a place like this, biatch?   
(Dude looks at her appraisingly)  
Yo ass called mah crazy ass son?

 **DEAN  
** I be just glad it worked.

 **DEMON  
** First time?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass could say all dis bullshit.

 **DEMON  
** Oh, come on now, nahmeean, biatch? Don't push yo ass short. I know all bout you, Dean Winchesta n' shit. 

Her eyes glow red fo' a moment.

 **DEAN  
** So, you know whoz ass I am. 

 **DEMON  
** I git tha newsletter.

 **DEAN  
** Well, don't keep me up in suspense. What have you heard?

 **DEMON  
** Well, I heard you was thugged-out yo, but ... you just edible. What can I do fo' you, Dean?

 **DEAN  
** Maybe we should do dis up in mah car. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Sick n' private. 

 **DEMON  
** Soundz phat ta mah dirty ass. 

They stroll ta DEAN'S car.  


  
INT yo. HUDSON HOUSE - NIGHT

SAM is sprinklin tha dust up in a line before tha windows, then starts bustin a cold-ass lil circle of it round EVAN, whoz ass standz up in tha middle of tha room.

 **EVAN  
** What tha fuck iz dat stuff?

 **SAM  
** Goofer dust. 

 **EVAN  
** Yo ass trippin like a muthafucka?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. 'Fraid so. Look. Believe me, don't believe me, whatever you want. Just whatever you do, stay inside tha circle, all right?

EVAN nods.  


  
EXT. CROSSROADS - NIGHT

DEAN n' tha DEMON is still strollin towardz tha IMPALA.

 **DEAN  
** So I was hopin we could strike a thugged-out deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. 

 **DEMON  
** Thatz what tha fuck I do. 

 **DEAN  
** I want Evan Hudson busted out from his contract. 

 **DEMON  
** Hmm. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So sorry, darling. Thatz not negotiable.

 **DEAN  
** I be bout ta make it worth yo' while. 

 **DEMON  
** Oh straight-up, biatch? What is you offering?

 **DEAN  
** Me.

 **DEMON  
** Well, well, well. You'd sacrifice yo' game fo' one of mah thugs's. Like father, like son. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

DEAN eyes her warily.  


  
INT yo. HUDSON HOUSE - NIGHT

EVAN is huggin his dirty ass, standin up in tha middle of tha circle dat SAM is just finishin yo. Dude shakes tha bag ta git up tha last grains.

 **SAM**  
Thatz tha last of dat shit.   


  
EXT. CROSSROADS - NIGHT

 **DEMON  
** Yo ass did know bout yo' dadz deal, right, biatch? His game fo' yours, biatch? Oh, I didn't make tha deal mah dirty ass yo, but... boy, I wish I had. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

DEAN grits his cold-ass teeth n' opens tha passenger side door.

 **DEAN  
** Afta you, biatch.

 **DEMON  
** Such a gentleman. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

As her big-ass booty starts ta git tha fuck into tha car, she looks down n' sees tha edge of a symbol extendin from below tha car.

 **DEMON**  
A Devilz Trap, biatch? You've gots ta be kiddin mah dirty ass.  


  
INT yo. HUDSON HOUSE - NIGHT

EVAN whirls round at a unheard sound.

 **SAM  
** What?

(Dawg growling.)

 **EVAN  
** Yo ass hear that?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, where?

Dude hears tha demonic growling. 

 **EVAN  
** Right outside tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

Da doors begin ta rattle violently; Sam steps inside tha circle.

 


	5. ACT FOUR

INT yo. HUDSON HOUSE - NIGHT

Side by side inside tha circle of dust, EVAN n' SAM stare tensely all up in tha rattlin door.

 **SAM**  
Just don't move, all right, biatch? Stay where yo ass is.   


  
EXT. CROSSROADS - NIGHT

 **DEMON  
** Yo ass stupid, fuckin wack... I should rip you limb from limb.

She slams tha hoopty door shut n' advances on DEAN, whoz ass backs up towardz a wooden structure.

 **DEAN**  
(more pleadin than defiant)  
Take yo' dopest shot.

 **DEMON  
** No. I don't be thinkin so. I aint goin ta put you outta yo' misery.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, biatch? Why not?

 **DEMON**  
Because yo' miseryz tha whole point. It aint nuthin but too much funk ta watch. Knowin how tha fuck yo' daddy took a dirt nap fo' you, how tha fuck da perved-out muthafucka sold his thugged-out ass. I mean, thatz gotta hurt.   
(DEAN is backed up against a wooden railing)  
It aint nuthin but all you eva be thinkin about. Yo ass raise up n' yo' first thought is, "I can't do dis no mo'." Yo ass be all lit up wit pain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, you loved his ass all muthafuckin day. It make me wanna hollar playa! And itz all yo' fault.   
(DEAN recoils as she gets mo' up in his wild lil' face.)  
Yo ass blew it, Dean! I could have given you what tha fuck you need.

 **DEAN  
** What do I need?

 **DEMON  
** Yo crazy-ass daddy n' shit. I could have brought his ass back. Yo crazy-ass loss. Seeya, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I wish you a sick long game. 

 **DEAN  
** Hold on.

She stops, smiling.  


  
INT yo. HUDSON HOUSE - NIGHT

Da rattlin becomes louder, mo' violent, then stops suddenly.

 **SAM  
** Do you still hear it?

 **EVAN  
** No. Is it over?

A rumblin sound be reppin a gratin by tha wall. They both whirl ta stare at it; it bursts outward, kickin dust tha fuck into tha room. 

 **EVAN**  
It aint nuthin but here biaatch!  


  
EXT. CROSSROADS - NIGHT

Da DEMON stops n' turns back; DEAN is standin beneath tha wooden structure, head down.

 **DEMON  
** Yo ass is dirty I've gots a soft spot fo' lost mini-dawgs n' long faces. I just can't leave you like all dis bullshit. Besides. Yo ass didn't call me here ta bargain fo' Evan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Not straight-up.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass betta brang his ass back, biatch? My fuckin dad?

 **DEMON  
** Of course I can. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Just as da thug was. Yo crazy-ass daddy would live a long-ass n' natural game, like da thug was meant to. Thatz a promise. 

 **DEAN  
** What bout me son?

 **DEMON**  
I could hit you wit ten years. Ten long phat muthafuckin years wit his muthafuckin ass. Thatz a gametime. Da crew can be together again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. John, Dean, Sammy. Da Winchesta thugs all reunited. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time.   
(she advances towardz him)  
Look. Yo crazy-ass dadz supposed ta be kickin dat shit, yo. Yo ass is supposed ta be dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So we'll just set thangs straight, put thangs back up in they natural order n' shiznit fo' realz. And you git ten extra muthafuckin years on top. Thatz a funky-ass bonus. 

Dat hoe straight-up close ta him; tha pimpin' muthafucka turns n' strutts farther back.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass be thinkin you could... (he turns ta grill her) ... throw up in a set of steak knives?

 **DEMON**  
(takin all dem steps forward)  
Yo ass know, dis smart-ass self-defense mechanizzle of yours... 

She stops n' looks up fo' realz. Above her head, on tha ceilin of tha wooden structure, be a Devilz Trap. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch glares at his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEMON  
** Dean!

 **DEAN  
** Now you straight-up trapped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Thatz gotta hurt.

 **DEMON  
** Let me out. Now.

 **DEAN  
** Sure. Us playas just gotta cook up a lil deal here first. Yo ass call off yo' Hellhoundz n' let Evan go. Then I be bout ta let you go.

 **DEMON  
** I can't break a funky-ass bindin contract. 

 **DEAN  
** Hmm fo' realz. And by "can't" you mean "don't want to", biatch? Last chance. Evan n' his hoe git ta live ta a ripe oldschool age. Going, going...

 **DEMON  
** Letz rap bout all dis bullshit.

 **DEAN  
** Okay, gone.

Dude circlez round her, pullin up Dadz Journal.  


  
INT yo. HUDSON HOUSE - NIGHT

Da barkin is growin louder n' closer; invisible Hellhoundz surround SAM n' EVAN.

 **SAM  
** No! Back inside tha circle biaatch!

Deep claw marks is gouged tha fuck into tha floor up in a path towardz tha circle; they stop just before tha edge.   


  
EXT. CROSSROADS - NIGHT

DEAN has opened tha JOURNAL; dat schmoooove muthafucka holdz a rosary up in one hand.

 **DEMON  
** What is you bustin?

 **DEAN  
** Oh, you just gonna go on a lil trip. Way down South.

 **DEMON  
** Forget Evan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Think of yo' dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** Regna terrae, cantate Deo...

DEAN continues tha exorcism, circlin tha DEMON, whoz ass begins ta flinch n' convulse; intercut we peep SAM n' EVAN backin away slowly, wind startin ta smoke away at they protectizzle circle.   


  
INT yo. HUDSON HOUSE - NIGHT

Over DEAN'S continued exorcism, we peep SAM n' EVAN backin away slowly, wind startin ta smoke away at they protectizzle circle.

 **SAM  
** Circlez broken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Come on!

Dude pulls EVAN outta tha room n' down tha hall. Quick cuts between DEAN'S exorcizzle n' they frantic escape, DEAN'S voice continuin over it all. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' EVAN dart tha fuck into a storeroom n' slam tha door behind dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM braces his dirty ass against it n' tha Hellhoundz start ta pound it down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   


  
EXT. CROSSROADS - NIGHT

 **DEAN  
**... up in potentis Magnife biaatch!

 **DEMON**  
Wait playa!  


  
INT yo. HUDSON HOUSE - NIGHT

Da violent poundin stops; every last muthafuckin thang goes on tha fuckin' down-low. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' EVAN look around, panting.   


  
EXT. CROSSROADS - NIGHT

DEAN n' tha DEMON is locked up in a horny kiss. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch breaks it; da perved-out muthafucka steps back n' blinks.

 **DEAN  
** What tha hell was dat for?

 **DEMON  
** Sealin tha deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. 

 **DEAN  
** I probably like ta be warned before I be violated wit demon tongue. 

 **DEMON  
** Evan Hudson is free yo. Dude n' his hoe will live long lives. 

 **DEAN  
** How tha fuck do I know you not lying?

 **DEMON  
** My fuckin word is mah bond.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, straight-up?

 **DEMON  
** It be when I cook up a thugged-out deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. It aint nuthin but tha rules. Yo ass gots what tha fuck you wanted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Now let me go. 

DEAN steps back, glancin up all up in tha Devilz Trap yo. Dude fingers tha rosary.

 **DEMON**  
Yo ass is gonna double-cross me son, biatch? Funny how tha fuck I be tha trustworthy one.   
(DEAN shrugs.)  
Yo ass know, you renege, biatch? Send mah crazy ass ta hell, biatch? Sooner or lata I'ma climb out, n' skinnin Evan Hudson is ghon be tha straight-up original gangsta thang dat I do.

DEAN smiles, stashes tha rosary away yo. Dude climbs up n' breaks tha protectizzle circle above her head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch steps out. 

 **DEMON  
** I gotta rap , biatch. Yo ass would have never pulled dat stunt if you knew. 

 **DEAN  
** Knew what?

 **DEMON  
** Where yo' daddy is. Yo ass should have made dat deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, playas rap bout hell yo, but itz just a word. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Well shiiiit, it don't even come close ta describin tha real thang.

 **DEAN  
** Shut yo' grill, biiiatch. 

 **DEMON  
** If you could peep yo' skanky daddy, biatch? Hear tha soundz he make 'cause his schmoooove ass can't even scream?

 **DEAN**  
(advancing)  
How tha fuck bout I bust you back there?

She throws her head back; black ichor pours outta her grill as her big-ass booty screams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. DEAN backs up until he against tha wooden structure again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da DEMON is gone, n' tha hoe whoz ass had hosted it slumps ta tha ground, confused. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **GIRL**  
What... how tha fuck did I git here?  


 


	6. ACT FIVE

EXT. ROAD - NIGHT

DEAN is rollin down a thugged-out dark road as SAM broodz beside his muthafuckin ass. 

 **SAM  
** Demons lie all tha time, right, biatch? Maybe dat biiiiatch was lying.

 **DEAN**  
Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. That straight-up what tha fuck you think?  
(Sam looks down)  
How tha fuck could da ruffneck do it?

 **SAM  
** Dude done did it fo' you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Exactly yo. How tha fuck is I supposed ta live wit that, biatch? Yo ass know, tha thought of his muthafuckin ass... wherever he be n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do. I mean, da ruffneck dropped his whole game chasin that... yellow-eyed lil hustla of a funky-ass biiiatch yo. Dude should have gone up fighting. That was supposed ta be his fuckin legacy. Yo ass know, biatch? Not bargainin wit tha damn thang. Not all dis bullshit. 

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck nuff playas do you be thinkin Dad saved, biatch? Total?

 **DEAN  
** Thatz not tha point, Sam.

 **SAM**  
Evan Hudson is safe cuz of what tha fuck Dad taught us. Thatz his fuckin legacy, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But we still here, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So we gotta keep going, fo' his muthafuckin ass.   
(beat)  
Dean?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

 **SAM**  
(nervously)  
When you was trappin dat demon, you weren't... I mean, dat shiznit was all a trick, right, biatch? Yo ass never considered straight-up makin dat deal, right?

DEAN stares straight ahead, then glances up tha window yo. Dude reaches forward n' turns tha radio on full blast n' don't say shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM flinches.

 


End file.
